Talkative
by thatmasquedgirl
Summary: A series of one-shots that serve as side stories to Little Talks. These aren't based on prompts and further explore plot lines from Little Talks. Varying episode and character tags, but will predominately star Oliver and Felicity. Will be updated as inspiration strikes.
1. Interrogation

_**Talkative**_

**Title: Interrogation**  
**Summary: Inquisitions don't always end as planned.**  
** Episode tag: Takes place between "Friend" and "Smile" in _Little Talks_**  
** Word Count: 1083**

**Notes:** This is because I was bored and asked MysteriousTwinkie for some sort of idea, and she suggested Thea and Felicity interacting together. This fits into my Little Talks universe, so I'd suggest reading through at least the first four one-shots before reading this. :) I think this might be up to specifications, but I'm not quite sure. I actually just finished writing this, so if you see any proofing errors, please let me know. Thanks for reading, and, if you'd be so kind, reviews are always appreciated. :)

Also, virtual hugs and/or cookies to anyone who knows the reference in this chapter. ;P

* * *

Thea Queen does not consider herself the type of person that could be classified as a "snoop." She resents the term, honestly, and she just doesn't like the idea of prying into someone's private life. But, when it comes to her brother, sometimes she just _happens_ to be in the right place at the right time and learn something new about the company he keeps.

On the day in question, she's just going to see her brother to see if he wants lunch—a completely innocent gesture. She hasn't been to his new office yet, either, and she thinks she might be able to talk him into a little remodeling because his taste in decor is _dreadful_. If he's going to be CEO of a Fortune 500 company, his office needs to look like it.

But when she sees his secretary—or "executive assistant," _whatever_—Thea gets the oddest sensation of deja vu. She takes a moment to study the woman, trying to place her. She's blonde, but, then again, a lot of women are. Her hair is pulled back into a simple ponytail, and she must have good taste because Thea _loves_ that dress. But what finally makes Thea place her are the glasses and the bright fuchsia lipstick.

Oliver's date from the other night. Thea can't quite remember the name—Felicity... _something_.

She looks as stunned as Thea feels when she walks into the secretary's office. Trying her best Queen intimidation, she crosses her arms, staring at her. Surprisingly, Blondie doesn't cower. "Computer technician, huh?" Thea finally asks.

The blonde girl blushes, but doesn't back down. "I've had a recent change of occupation," she replies dryly, sounding not-at-all thrilled about said change in occupation. "A friend of mine asked me to fill a position because he needed a friend by his side while he's swimming with sharks." She sighs. "And I'm a complete and total pushover, so of course I said yes."

Thea is surprised by the honesty in her tone and the smile in her voice. Thea forgives the deception, offering an olive branch by saying, "Well, you're not the first person Ollie has manipulated." She goes for the question she's wanted to know the answer to since she recognized Felicity: "Just answer one thing: Did he _pay_ you to go to that dinner?"

Felicity looks appalled by the idea, and Thea knows the answer before the words come out. "Of course not!" is her indignant response. "I told you, Oliver's my friend. He asked me and I said yes."

Thea smiles, holding her hands up in a peace offering. "Sorry. I had to ask—my brother has a habit of attracting people that don't have his best interests in mind." And it's true-no one ever really thinks about his best interests, so Thea takes it upon herself to watch out for her older brother. He probably thinks it's rude and a little demeaning, but he does the same to her—and she lets him because _he's her brother_ and he cares.

Thea offers the blonde woman a smile. "So, do you think it would be all right if I forced him to go get lunch with me?" She winks before adding, "I don't want to disrupt his hard-working EA's scheduling."

Felicity makes an odd sound before saying, "By all means. He's been reading contracts all morning, and it makes him all growly and grr-I'll-stab-you-with-my-pen. I beg you to get him out of here for a while so that we can all leave with our limbs intact." She seems to realize that she did, in fact, say that out loud, blushing slightly as Thea laughs.

As if he senses her plight, suddenly Oliver is in his EA's office, asking, "Thea, why are you tormenting my EA?" He sounds oddly calm for someone recently described as "growly," and the corners of his mouth are turned upward just enough—is that a _smile_ on his face? Thea's been trying for _months_ to get him to smile like that, and yet nothing.

Thea waves him off with a hand. "It's not torment, it's girl talk," she says dismissively, throwing her new co-conspirator a wink. Then, more seriously, she says, "I've been told you're in need of a lunch break. Lucky for you, I've come to save the day before you end up stabbing someone with a pen." His eyes flicker toward Felicity for a moment, and Thea watches with interest as he realizes where the information came from.

The subtle changes in his expression are small, with just a hint of something that looks like mischief appearing at the corners of his mouth and in the lightness of his eyes. He smiles at Thea and says, "I'll just be a minute; I need to sign a few more things." His eyes flicker toward Felicity's. "Maybe, in the meantime, Miss Smoak"—he says her name like they're just professional acquaintances—"can get you a cup of coffee?"

He clearly expects the consequences of his words, but Thea is not prepared for the fire in Felicity's eyes. "No, Miss Smoak _cannot_ get you a cup of coffee," she snaps testily, with a glare that reminds Thea of that saying about how looks can kill. "Miss Smoak happens to have a Master's from MIT—_not_ some sort of secretarial school—and she does _not_ fetch at Oliver Queen's whims. Last time I checked, my job description says, 'Oliver Queen's EA,' not 'Oliver Queen's minion.'" As though it explains everything, she hastily adds, "I don't even _like_ bananas."

A rush of breath leaves Oliver's mouth, too fast to be a sigh. It's so foreign that it takes Thea a minute to recognize that it was _almost_ a laugh. He looks like he wants to say something, but Felicity cuts him off. "Don't even start, Oliver," she says in a very dangerous tone. "You just better hope that your computer isn't missing a circuit board when you get back." Though her tone is serious and just a little vindictive, she's smiling all the while, as if this is some sort of game between the two of them.

Oliver holds his hands up in surrender before walking out, dragging Thea along with him. She dismisses the interaction for a while, but then everything comes back to her when, after lunch, her brother orders a to-go plate. At her question, he simply states that its his apology to Felicity.

It's the first time Thea thinks that they're cute together.


	2. Revelations

**Title: Revelations**  
**Summary: The closer one is, the more likely they will miss the illusion altogether.**  
**Episode tag: post-"Trust"**  
** Word Count: 790**

**Notes:** I wrote this last night, so it's incredibly raw. Add that to the fact that I had to use a scene break (and I _hate_ to use scene breaks in my own work), so that means I'm not entirely satisfied with this. It might be re-posted later, but we'll just have to see. Anyway, reviews are greatly appreciated, and thanks for reading! :)

* * *

Thea isn't sure she likes this side of her brother. It's not because they're in a building in God-knows-where, captured by men who want to do God-knows-what to them—which is probably Oliver's fault. No, she's _terrified_ of the side of himself he's displayed. Gone is Ollie, the carefree, never-serious womanizing brother. The man before her is foreign, cold, calculating, and _capable_—especially of violence. The two guards he... _took care of_ haven't gotten up yet, and he's currently in the process of stripping them of their weapons. Instead of taking them himself, however, he tosses them on the ground in pieces.

"What are you _doing?_" she asks for what feels like the millionth time in the experience.

"Getting us out of here," he replies quietly. He keeps digging through the guards' belongings, smiling when he finds a cell phone. Without any hesitation, he dials a number into it. After it rings for a while, he finally says, "Hey—" He's interrupted by the person on the other end, and he rolls his eyes—with... is that a _smile?_—before finally cutting in. "_Listen_ to me," he says finally, his tone stern even though he's almost smiling. "Thea and I were abducted—" Another barrage of questions before he finally snaps, "_Felicity!_ Now is not the time."

Thea gapes, eyes wide in surprise. Why he's calling her instead of the cops is something she simply can't understand, but she decides to give her brother the benefit of the doubt. Despite what people say about him, he's never let her down before, and she doubts this will be the time he does. She carefully reigns in her expression, fighting to hold back her outburst.

Oblivious to this, Oliver continues, "Thea and I were abducted. She's standing right here, and she's fine." There's another pause before he adds, "_We're_ fine." Thea's eyes narrow of their own accord, but he continues anyway. "I don't know where we are, but can you get a trace on this number and send SCPD our way? I think Officer Lance needs an arrest or two this month." She doesn't know how Oliver knows that—or what Lance has to do with this—but she doesn't question. "But before you do that, if you could send Mr. Diggle our way first, please?" A pause for something that must be an affirmative before he replies, "Thank you."

He terminates the call with a swift movement, pocketing the cell phone. He smiles at her before saying, "Come on, Speedy. We need to go." She takes his hand again, moving through the building quickly together. And that's all that matters for the moment—they're together.

* * *

It takes about half an hour for Mr. Diggle to show up, and Thea scoffs at his _excellent_ response time. They could have been killed in the time it took him to show up, and he just strolls up to them as if it's nothing. Behind him by a few minutes, though, is none other than the Officer Lance in question, looking like he simply got out of bed and put on his uniform.

"Officer Lance," Oliver says cheerfully, sounding for all the world like the spoiled billionaire the world expects him to be. "You won't believe the day my sister and I have had."

Lance seems suitably bored by the thread of conversation. "I'm told there was some sort of disturbance," is his no-nonsense response. "Want to tell me what happened _this time_, Queen?" Thea wonders why he wanted to call the guy; he's gruff, rude, and mocking—all qualities that get on her nerves. "Mr. Diggle called me."

Oliver shoots Thea a glance she can't quite interpret before jumping into a seamless lie. "I don't really know what happened," he admits, making a face. "They stopped our car, and we woke up here. They tried to use torture"—he carefully motions to his side and his bloodied shirt—"but I had no idea what they were wanting." He sighs. "Thank goodness Mr. Diggle showed up; he dispatched the two guards, and then he led us out."

It's clear Lance doesn't really buy it, but by that point, Thea doesn't care. She has come to a more important revelation. Oliver is not the person he was five years ago—that much is certain—and he clearly doesn't want anyone to know what he's capable of. But the most important thing is that she now knows his earlier promise is now a lie. He isn't going to explain things to her, to let her in on the trick. Oliver Queen is not going to reveal his secrets easily. And that's fine.

Thea will just have to figure it out herself. She likes a good challenge.


	3. Comfort

**Title: Comfort**  
**Characters: Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen**  
** Episode tag: post-"Protective"**  
** Word Count: 1341**  
** Summary: Sometimes, the only comfort that is necessary is the presence of another.**

**Notes:** I think it was msbethygrace who posted something on tumblr about an "almost kiss" scenario. It looked fun, and I wanted to do it. This is the way it turned out. It's a little angsty and it's not quite what she was talking about, but it was incredibly fun to write. I hope it turned out okay. Oliver might be a little out-of-character, though. Anyway, I'll let you be the judge, so please read and review if you have the time. Thanks!

* * *

Felicity is generally the kind of girl that stays in a permanent good mood. Don't get her wrong, she can be irritated or frustrated, but that usually doesn't put her out of sorts. She's tightly wound, yes, but it takes a lot to upset her—and usually from people she despises. And, bearing that in mind, it _means_ something now that Oliver is the source of her irritation.

"Put me down!" she demands. She doesn't like that he's babying her, and she certainly doesn't need him to _carry_ her, draped in his arms. Not that she wouldn't mind under other circumstances... She shakes her head. No, those thoughts won't do—now or ever. She pushes those thoughts to the back of her head, in that once-empty space where all the things she should _not_ think about are stored. It was empty once, but now she's running out of room back there. "I was shot in the torso, not the leg. I can walk."

He ignores her until he lowers her onto the metal gurney in the lair, behind her computer desks. She's helped patch various members of the team on it, but she's never been the one to sit there. It feels a little weird, honestly, especially with a very hooded-up Oliver still standing in front of her. Without thinking, she reaches up and pulls the hood down, so she can at least see his eyes, to reveal a very intense, murderous look on his face. His jaw is set so tightly that she can see the vein pulsing in his neck.

He raises an eyebrow in question, and then she realizes what a scene they must paint, her arms around his neck, his still on her waist. Felicity scrambles back, blushing. "Sorry," she says quietly. "I wanted to see your face." She puts her hand over the wound at her side, blood trickling out at steady—but mercifully slow—rate. "This isn't your fault, you know."

She expects him to argue with her, but what he does is worse: he simply stays quiet, not voicing his thoughts so she can't ease the guilt eating away at him. Before she can try again, he turns away, gathering the tools he's going to need to patch her up, placing each one on the metal gurney next to her without much thought. Absently, he reaches for her, pulling her now crimson blouse out of her black trousers.

Suddenly shy, Felicity slaps his hands away, and he seems to realize that maybe that wasn't the best course of action. "Don't you know to _ask_ before taking a girl's shirt off?" she asks him innocently, pulling her blouse loose and unbuttoning it, but then realizes with horror what she said. "Why does my brain do this to me?" she moans. She knows what will happen next: they'll pretend that little question never happened, and he'll be awkward around her for the rest of the night. Any chance at conversation they might have had is now gone, and she has only her runaway mouth to blame.

So, naturally, she's surprised when he replies, "I've never had any complaints before." His tone is almost—is he _teasing_ her? She looks up at him instantly, but he's looking down at the wound at her torso, so his motives are a mystery. She can't regain coherent thought in enough time to respond, so he continues, "You got lucky—this just missed your ribcage. It's a clean through-and-through, so I'll patch it and you'll be fine." It looks as though the weight of the world has lifted from his shoulders.

She can't respond because his fingers brush her waist, and she wants to tell him he's wrong because she can't breathe. Then she realizes—foolishly—that it's because of his hand on her bare skin. She finally forces herself to suck in a breath when he releases her, and she fidgets on the table. His close proximity is not doing a thing for her self-control.

It's worse when he turns back to her, though, because he chooses to stand between her knees, closer to her than he's ever allowed himself to be. She can only think that he smells amazingly good before she shuts her brain down completely, focusing on the green leather fabric at his shoulder. It feels like an eternity before he finally looks at her, his eyes too intense for such a clinical moment.

"You're all stitched up," he assures her quietly, still with that haunted look in his eyes. Felicity doesn't understand that intensity and—_wow_, who turned up the heat in the lair? It's suddenly stifling, and either the tension in the air or the heat is going to kill her if both aren't remedied soon.

She finally manages to answer in a hoarse whisper, "Thank you." By then, though, he's pulled her shirt together, slowly fastening the line of buttons as though he does it every day. She thinks she imagines his eyes lingering in places that they really _shouldn't_ be studying—well, not if they're just friends, that is.

He finishes after a very long moment, but she grabs his hand before he can try to turn away and pretend this moment never happened. "Hey," she says firmly, causing his eyes to snap to hers. "It's not your fault."

He takes her hand in his, clasping it just as tightly. "_Yes,_ it is," he replies in a similar tone. "It was reckless of me to put you in a situation where you're an easy target." She opens her mouth to protest, but he stops her by squeezing her hand. "You were the only one in that room without any training, and we got lucky." Something dark enters into his eyes, and she already knows what he's going to talk about next. "And you are _never_ allowed to kill for me again." The tone of his voice brooks no argument, but there's a world of raw pain and anger underneath.

"I'd do it again," she says after a long moment of silence, causing him to look at her. "He had you at gunpoint. He was going to hurt you. As a friend once said to me, there was no choice to make." She doesn't like the determined set of his mouth, fixed into a grim line, so she continues, "You're my friend, Oliver, and, while you have the tendency to drive me absolutely _insane_ sometimes, I do care about you. And I had an opportunity, so I took it, and I don't regret saving your life."

Something in his expression sparks, his eyes darkening in a way that Felicity thinks has nothing to do with anger. He reaches up, puts a hand to her cheek, and she can't stop herself from closing her eyes a moment. When they flicker open again, Oliver is standing way too close for propriety, and his expression is torn—as if he's trying to talk himself into doing something and out of it at the same time.

She thinks, the breath rushing out of her as she does so, that he might be about to kiss her.

But the moment ends abruptly as the door to the lair rushes open, and suddenly there's several feet between them that weren't there before. "I got the report from Lance," he says, not realizing the moment he walked in on, "and he says that the information should be enough to convict Rowland and put him away for—"

He stops abruptly as he sees the other two members of the team trying very hard not to look at one another. Oliver's poker face is beyond reproach, but Felicity can still feel her erratic heartbeat pounding in her ears and the heat on her face that indicates she's blushing. Diggle watches them both for a long moment—though Oliver urges him with his expression to continue—before finally that knowing smile that Felicity _hates_ crosses his features.

Without another word, he shakes his head and turns away, walking back the way he came.


	4. Home

**Title: Home**  
**Summary: Sometimes the best way to remove the weight of the world from your shoulders is to recruit a friend.**  
** Episode tag: post-"Comfort"**  
** Word Count: 1048**

**Notes:** Okay, this is so raw and unedited that it still leaves ink stains on your hands. Seriously, I finished this a few moments ago, and it hasn't been proofed as much as I'd like it to be. But I wanted to go ahead and put this up today, so well, here it is. Please, if you see any errors, point them out to me, but until then, thanks for reading, and reviews are always appreciated. :D

* * *

Oliver sighs as he grips the wheel of the car, turning onto the street that he knows to be Felicity's. He berates himself—not for the first time that night—for agreeing to drive her home after the... _incident_ just a few hours prior. He equally cursed and was thankful for Diggle's interruption, as he thinks he might have kissed her otherwise. His life is too dangerous for her, and he will _not_ draw her in any further than he already has. He keeps telling himself that, but it doesn't seem to be working.

He shouldn't even be driving her home right now, but he's always been one for playing with fire. He knows better than to get involved with her. Oliver knows he will eventually hurt her—_disappoint_ her—just as he does everyone. And he can't bear to hurt Felicity that way. Not her—_never_ her. It's the same thing he told himself as he was prepared to die for her tonight.

He glances over at her, the way she leans against the seat of the car, in such a deep, peaceful sleep—sleep that Oliver rarely sees himself, since the island. She's turned toward him, arm draped over her wound as though to protect it. He wonders if he'll ever see her hand fall across it and _not_ think of how it's his fault. He thinks of how absolutely _terrified_ he was when Detective Lance pointed out that wound. He should have seen it before, but there was so little time to leave. It made him sick when he realized the red stain on his green leather jacket wasn't spatter, but _her_ blood. It just was not acceptable, and it never will be.

He pulls into the parking structure of the apartment complex, not at all pleased with what he's seeing. He doesn't like that it is positioned just on the outer line of the Glades, and he _certainly_ doesn't like the lack of security features. Anyone could park in the structure at any time—and from there, they could also enter the building. He doesn't like the idea of leaving her here after such a horrible night, and he slams the breaks a little _too_ hard before putting the car in reverse.

There is no way in his mind that he's leaving her here tonight.

The jerking motion of the car startles Felicity awake, and she looks at him with wide, terrified eyes that makes the guilt of his failure burn even worse. "Where are we?" she asks, her voice still coated with sleep. She sits up higher in her seat, and the trust in her expression makes the guilt worse. He doesn't deserve that level of trust—and he probably never will.

"Your apartment structure," he states flatly, "but we're leaving." She starts to protest, but he says instead, "It isn't safe here, and I'm not leaving you here." He's already left her once that night, knowing that his escape from the building had to be more stealthy than hers, should Lance not be the first on the scene. She was still terrified and dazed, and _he left her_. He reconciles himself to this because it was really the only option, but it doesn't make the action acceptable.

Her responding sigh is heavy, and he knows what she's thinking with that one breath: _I am not in the mood to do this with you right now._ "Oliver," she starts sharply, showing more fight than he thought possible in her half-asleep state, "I _live_ here. I've never had a break-in before, and I'll be just as safe as I always am."

He almost buys it—_almost_. He knows she's really afraid but trying to put on a brave face (as always). While he usually admires that quality in her, it's so frustrating when he needs to protect her the way he does now. It's definitely going to end in a fight between them, but that's not what bothers him about it. What concerns him is that she never loses a fight that she's prepared to win.

He hesitates before trying again. "Felicity, this isn't a normal night. " He doesn't want to broach the subject, but he also doesn't want her in a place like _this_ all night. That is why he says, "You were shot—which is a horrible enough experience—but you also had to... _do_ something tonight that no one should ever have to do." He remembers for a minute how horrible it had felt that first time he had killed someone on the island—and that had been by _accident_. He can only imagine the thoughts swimming though her head as she made the conscious decision to take a life. Finally, he says the words he's been holding back all night: "I need to be there for you this time."

He's surprised by how fast the light dawns in her eyes. "You didn't let me down tonight," Felicity assures him, and Oliver can feel the weight fall off his shoulders immediately. "You _saved_ me tonight, and I nearly cost you _everything_. I'm sorry, Oliver. I let you down."

Oliver sighs. Of _course_ she would twist this around to make it _her_ fault, even though he's so obviously the one that screwed things up. "No," he says sternly—perhaps too much so, judging by the way her head snaps to his, eyes wide. "No," he tries again, softer this time, "this isn't your fault, Felicity." He doesn't say it's his, because he knows she'll try and argue with him. Instead, though, he says, "And I'm not leaving you in a place like this after all that you've been through tonight."

He can see the defeat play across her features a moment before she allows him to win the argument. "Fine," she says tiredly, leaning her head against the back of the seat again. "Let's go back to the lair, then." She pauses, a wicked smile that promises mischief playing across her face. "But only if you finally bring that bottle of wine you owe me." Oliver says nothing in response, only offering her a half-smile before turning out of the garage, turning toward the nearest liquor store.

A bottle of wine is a small price to pay for taking her home.


	5. Slander

**Title: Slander**  
** Summary: "If the . . . rumor mill was to be believed, it could have been anything from alien abduction to organ-harvesting that had taken place."**  
**Characters: Thea Queen, Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen**  
**Episode tag: post-"Smile"**  
** Word Count: 1695**

**Notes:** This got placed wrong, so I'm re-posting it. I don't think anyone was able to read it, anyway, so it should seem new to everyone here on FanFiction. Sorry for the trouble.

I currently have eight ideas sitting around. Eight. So what does my brain do? Come up with an entirely new idea. :/ I don't know what happened, but I just got to thinking about this situation, and, thus a new story was born. :) **I typed most of this on my tablet in an app where I don't have SpellCheck or anything, so let me know if you see any errors.** Anyway, I'll let you see what you think; your reviews would be greatly appreciated. :) Also, virtual hugs, praise, and/or cookies to anyone who knows where the quote in the summary came from; it's quite obscure. :D

* * *

It's not the first time Thea has spent time in Felicity's office, but it is the first time she's spent time in it alone. They're supposed to do lunch today, but, in an odd turn of events, she's nowhere to be found. She asked Oliver and he muttered something about a file and an errand, but he was incredibly vague and unhelpful as always. Since Oliver is in the other office and can see in thanks to the glass panels, Thea is discouraged from snooping, so she just sits in one of the guest chairs and peruses the one of the fashion catalogs in the office.

Thea notices that it's one of her favorite designers immediately, and she finds the catalog vaguely familiar. She's rather surprised when she turns to see the issue date and finds her own name and address in the box for the billing address, and then she wonders how Oliver snuck that one past her. She turns to the page where familiar blue dress is marked with a yellow post-it, but it's probably out of Felicity's price range. She realizes that it's the one Felicity wore to their family dinner, and then she notices the writing on the note is Oliver's, with the phone number of Thea's favorite boutique and a size that's probably Felicity's. She laughs aloud when she puts two and two together. Of _course_ he would insist on buying her a dress for the event if she agreed to go with him. He must have a good eye, too, because it had fit her perfectly.

She glances up, fully prepared to give her brother grief about spending the family fortune on an EA who he isn't even dating, but she can see a flash of color out of the corner of her eye, and she knows that it's Felicity—that girl and her brightly-colored dresses, she can't help but think. It's a wild array of bright colors on a white background, and somehow the quirky yellow heels go well with it.

But Thea's attention is torn from Felicity's impeccable tastes when she sees the way the EA is walking. Felicity is usually pretty confident, with straight shoulders and perfect posture. However, her shoulders are turned inward as she walks toward her office, walking way too fast and focusing her attention only at the door. Thea can see her eyes flick toward various groups of people that stand together whispering, though she pretends not to be listening. Finally, she reaches her office, and she breathes a quick sigh of relief before taking on a more normal posture, running a hand over her face. She's yet to see Thea, but she doesn't make herself known; something is very wrong here, and she clearly needs a moment to gather her thoughts.

Before she can, though, Oliver is in her office, hovering a little too close—a little too _protectively_—for everything to be normal. "You okay?" he asks softly, his tone something akin to concern. Felicity won't quite look at him, so he turns her toward him, hands on her shoulders, and he leans down to catch her eyes with his.

She flushes instantly, waving him off as she turns back to her files and things. "Fine," she assures him, her tone clipped in a way that is very clearly _not_ fine. She seems so frazzled, and she accidentally knocks a file from the desk. She bends down so quickly to pick it up that Thea realizes it might have been on purpose—so that she could better avoid Oliver.

"Felicity," is Oliver's laconic response, and he puts all of irritation and frustration into that word. Thea is glad she actually gets to hear this particular conversation; she _loves_ to watch the two of them interact. It's so funny how they can say one or two words to one another— or sometimes none at all—and yet they're still able to carry on such a lengthy conversation with their expressions and tones.

Felicity huffs, finally turning toward her friend, irritation flashing in her eyes that probably has nothing to do with Oliver. "Look, Oliver, I know you're just trying to protect me, but it's fine. It's _all fine_." Her tone is so sarcastic and biting that Thea doesn't quite expect it, but Oliver doesn't seem to mind, instead letting her vent her anger. "I don't need you to rush in, guns blazing, and clean some guy's clock, okay?" She pauses before starting up faster, the anger suddenly gone from her voice. "I've actually never understood that expression. It means to tell somebody off—a _bad_ thing—but I really wouldn't mind if someone literally took the time to clean my clock. In fact, I think I'd probably thank them for being nice enough to do such a tedious job. And while we're on the subject, I've never quite understood 'you made your bed and you have to lie in it' one, either—"

"Felicity," Oliver tries again, but this time his tone is different. If that half-smile on his face is any indication, he's actually quite amused by her little rant over anecdotal phrases .

Felicity shakes her head. "Sorry," she says, a little sheepish. "My point is, I am not currently a damsel in distress, and I'm not in need of saving. But when I am, I'll let you know." There's a world of trust in that one statement that Thea can't quite place, but she thinks it might have been well earned long ago.

Thea thinks it might be best to make her presence known before the two start doing the goo-goo eyes thing that they both deny to be mutual attraction. "It's about time someone called you on how overprotective you are," she says, and the other two parties turn toward her immediately, surprised to find her there. She answers Felicity's unspoken question with, "Lunch date, remember?"

Judging by her expression, apparently the answer is no. Thea just sighs before turning to Oliver. "Go away," she says flatly. "You have very important, business-like things to do, and Felicity clearly needs out of this building for an hour or three." Felicity opens her mouth to protest, but Thea holds up a hand. "It's cute that you think it's up for discussion."

Oliver holds his hands up in mock defeat. "I've learned to pick my battles," he says, with an apologetic glance at Felicity that he clearly means, despite his teasing tone.

She scoffs at some shared joke that Thea doesn't understand. "Since _when?_" she retorts, some of that fire back in her again. Oliver takes the reproach well, only offering a lazy wave over his shoulder.

As soon as he's back in his office, Thea crosses her arms over her chest as she rises from her seat. "Okay, spill," she demands, making sure her expression leaves no room for argument. "I promise not to tell Oliver, so I want _details_, Felicity."

Clearly she isn't so concerned about letting Thea in on the secret. "Just rumor mill things," she assures Thea, frowning. Thea doesn't give in, so she finally adds, "Ever since I got this job, there have been rumors about _how_ I earned this position, and most of them indicate that it wasn't for my work ethic and skill set."

Thea gets it now—they all think the same things that Thea did when she walked into this office and saw Felicity Smoak sitting there. She took the time to correct her pre-conceived notions, but she doubts that most people do. After all, the story is a little suspicious: why would Oliver _Queen_ hire an IT guru to answer his phones, unless he had an ulterior motive? It's a far too easy assumption to make given Oliver's track record, and Thea finds herself a little upset with her brother for the situation he's created for his best friend.

By the time she has a plan together, Felicity has already gathered her purse. Thea grabs Felicity's arm, linking it through her own as they leave the office together. Felicity starts to ask, but then thinks better of it.

It doesn't take long for the whispering to start up—except it's not really whispering. The comments from the first man are off-color and just plain _crude_, which Thea doesn't take that well. Within a second, she's dropped Felicity's arm and she's stomping toward him with fire in her eyes. She vaguely hears Felicity whispering her name, but she doesn't care anymore. Somebody needs to do _something_.

Thea walks up to the pig in a last-season suit and tie, and his eyes widen when he realizes who is walking up to him, and she thinks he cowers a little. "Hey, jackass," she snaps, feeling a little proud of herself for the way the guy looks at her. "You see her?" She points toward Felicity. "She's my _best friend_, okay? So before you go spouting some sort of bullshit rumor, maybe you should examine the facts a little closer. She took the job because my brother was in a bind, and _I_ asked her if she would. And she's a really awesome person, so of _course_ she said yes. So before you go around slandering someone behind their backs, maybe you should take a moment to get your shit straight." She examines the ID tag on his card. "Craig Wilson, huh? If I were you, Craig, I'd be less concerned about why Felicity is sitting in that office, and more concerned about what would happen if Oliver Queen heard you spouting that rumor."

She has only enough time to watch the guy pale before turning on her heel, looping her arm through Felicity's again, and walking toward the elevator. Felicity doesn't say a word for thirty stories, but when the elevator finally hits the ground floor, she finally says, "Thank you." The sincerity is overpowering, and Thea marvels at the length of time it's been since she's heard _anyone_ be sincere. Thea only shrugs in response, playing it cool. Oliver's probably going to yell at her later.

But she thinks it's worth it when they return and everyone is quiet as they pass.


	6. Damsel

**Title: Damsel**  
** Episode tag: post-"Hero"**  
** Word count: 804**  
** Summary: She isn't afraid, but she is grateful.**

**Notes:** I didn't really feel like "Hero" was finished, so I decided to write a little one-shot to stem off of that. I'm not really sure about it right now, so I'll let you decide how good (or bad, of course) it is. Thanks for reading. All reviews are welcome and appreciated.

* * *

All things considered, Thea thinks the day is turning out about as well as it can—granted that she was captured by a psychopathic killer and rescued by another, who incidentally turned out to be not so psycho. Her hand is in the Vigilante's, and somehow she's keeping pace with him through the winding corridors of wherever the hell Helena Bertinelli has decided to keep her prisoner.

The Vigilante slows suddenly, and Thea is thrown off by the sudden momentum. He steadies her easily before motioning for her to be quiet. "What's your status?" he replies quietly, voice distorted by the synthesizer. She knows he's probably talking to Felicity, and Thea has to admit, the blonde she once scorned has never seemed so appealing. Thea would love to see a familiar face right now.

The response seems to be just long enough to catch his attention. "Good," he says finally. "I'm bringing her to you. I trust you and the detective can see that Miss Queen gets home safely?" If she wasn't so tired from the running and stoned from the drugs Helena gave her, she'd jump for joy. Home never sounded so good as it does now.

The next question is aimed at her instead of the anonymous voice on the comm. "Are you all right?" he asks her, again surprised by how gentle he has been with her.

"Yeah, fine," she assures him, panting from the exertion. She's fast, sure—she didn't get the nickname "Speedy" for nothing—but he's faster.

He hesitates before saying, "It's not much further, but I can carry you."

Thea's eyes narrow and, tired as she is, she still finds the energy to be indignant. "No," she says flatly, "I am _not_ letting you carry me out of here like a damsel in distress. You can play superhero with Felicity, but I'm walking out of here myself."

Again the corners of his mouth twitch, and this time she's sober enough to realize he actually _is_ smiling. "Felicity is tougher than you think," is his enigmatic response before he holds out his hand to her, silently asking her to keep running. The tone of his voice makes her think that he's trying to remind himself as much as her.

A few minutes later, she can see stars, and God, she's never been this thrilled to see crappy buildings in the Glades as today. With another ten feet, she's at the gates of the old factory, and she can see Felicity and Officer Lance standing next to a squad car. The Vigilante motions her forward, and then she's suddenly running again.

Felicity seems a little surprised when Thea hugs her, stumbling backward slightly and faltering a moment before hugging her back. "I _knew_ you could help me," she says, surprised by the emotion in her own voice. "Thank you, Felicity."

"Don't thank me," she replies modestly after Thea releases her. "_He's_ the one you should be thanking. I just relayed the message—he's the one who came to get you."

Thea looks over her shoulder at the Vigilante, who is telling Lance about the events that transpired. "...Bertinelli should be waiting for you down there," he finishes with his story, and Lance is already starting to radio in the location.

Thea stops over toward him, just as he's about to disappear into the night. "Hey," she calls, and he turns to her slightly. "Thank you for saving me from that crazy bitch."

"Anytime," is his response, but then he tacks on, "but that doesn't mean you should make a habit of it."

She smiles before ending with, "I meant what I said down there, you know. You're a hero." She sighs. "I don't know if you know this or not, but you saved my boyfriend's life last year. Roy Harper?" She waves a hand before he can answer the question. "That doesn't matter. The point is, he idolized you after that. I thought he was an idiot, but..." She offers him a sincere smile. "Well, I'm starting to understand why."

He doesn't respond before he fires the bow and swings off into the night like he's Tarzan or something. A hand falls on her shoulder, and she sees Felicity Smoak standing beside her, smiling. "I think we should get you home now," she says, as though she's not surprised by the dramatic exit. But, then again, maybe you get used to it. "I know your brother is worried sick about you."

Thea shakes her head to clear it before turning toward Felicity. "Of course," she says with a half-smile, before she bursts out with the question she's been wanting the answer to for _ages_. "Do you know who he is? Under that hood, I mean."

Felicity's smile is enigmatic as she answers slowly, "Someone who doesn't get enough credit."


	7. Stealth

**Title: Stealth**  
** Episode tag: post-"Secrets," post-2.12 "Tremors"**  
** Word Count: 1384**  
** Summary: Cloak-and-dagger isn't always the best method, but, hey, it works.**

**Notes:** This is for PhantomPhoenix on AO3, who is responsible for giving me this gem of a prompt in a comment on Secrets. Actually, it was an alternate prompt, but it fit in better than the original. I have _finally_ completed this, so I thought I'd just go ahead and post it. I think it's a little snarky and a little amusing, but I'll leave you to your own conclusions. Your reviews are welcomed and appreciated. Also, this was just written yesterday (on my very temperamental tablet), so I didn't do a lot of proofing. If you see any typos, please let me know and I'll fix them immediately. I'm now going to sleep off a migraine and remain emotionally dead for the rest of the afternoon. :)

Just a side note? The genetics thing below, it's legit. If two people are AB and A, it is physically impossible for their children to be type O. Just throwing that out there. Four years of heavy science education, and I finally get to use it for something. :P

* * *

Thea isn't too proud to admit that she's gone through a few periods in her life when she's questioned everything she believes in. When she saw Roy in that interrogation room after he snatched her purse, he told that story about his Vertigo-addicted mother. Thea questioned all the things she believed about the hoodlums in the Glades—if Roy was just trying to pay hospital bills, then what about the other criminals out there? When her mother admitted that she had been part of a plan to destroy half the Glades, it happened to her again.

But, most importantly, there was that day after blood typing in middle school, when she asked her mother about her blood type. Moira is A and Robert was AB, but yet Thea is type O. Sure, she got a C in genetics, but she knows enough to know that can't quite happen. But then her mother assuaged her fears by having her blood re-tested, and she came back A, too. It had her freaked, and she wondered about her parents for a while, but then she realized how foolish it was to doubt her mother and father.

But all of that had been smooth sailing compared to the realization she's had most recently, when she listened into a conversation between Felicity and Officer Lance, when they both admitted to helping the Vigilante with his work. Lance she could see, maybe, especially after the several times Mr. Green-Hooded-Psycho saved Laurel's life. Maybe Lance thinks he _owes_ the guy or something. She's long since given up on understanding the way men's minds work.

But Felicity is a horse of a different color, so to speak. She's so blunt, obvious, and _honest_. Felicity Smoak, computer technician and disgruntled EA to Oliver Queen. Felicity Smoak, who makes conversation using references to obscure sci-fi shows and rambling, irrelevant phrases. She's the _last_ person Thea would guess to be aiding the Vigilante.

Honestly, it makes her wonder who _else_ can put the emerald archer on their BFF list.

It still bothers her, but now she something far more important to worry about: Oliver. Oliver who is still adapting to normalcy after the island, who bears the weight of the world on his shoulders, who _hates_ the Vigilante. To know that Felicity Smoak is aiding the Hood would break his heart—and the last thing she wants to happen is for Oliver to find out the truth.

Really, Thea thinks, it's only a matter of time before the information comes pouring out of Felicity's mouth in one of her long-winded speeches. Now that she thinks about it, Thea thinks that she might have almost admitted it to _her_ once, but she managed to clamp down on that rambling impulse in the nick of time. Felicity is an adult and can do whatever she damn well pleases, but she is _not_ allowed to bring Oliver in on this.

She's been trying harder to stay in the loop, to save Felicity from herself. It's working okay; Oliver and Felicity both think that those lunches she's been having with Felicity were _just_ because the two girls are friends. It's a big part of it, sure, but Thea also knows that spending time with Felicity keeps her away from _Oliver_.

Roy's working to help her clean up the bar that night before Verdant opens, and, while Thea wouldn't usually mind the company, it distracts her from what is important. Oliver and Felicity are up in one of the private boxes with a tablet, and they're clearly discussing something on the screen. Sometimes Oliver likes to hang around Verdant while it's open, just in case Thea needs him, and tonight seems to be one of those nights.

Thea's eyes narrow as she watches the exchange, paying close attention as Felicity gestures wildly with her hands as her body language suggests she's rambling again. Thea instantly stands upright and marches to the staircase toward them, frowning. Faintly she hears Roy ask her where she's going, but she's just not interested in talking to him right now.

She's up in the box in an instant, and Oliver practically throws himself across the room from Felicity. Thea rolls her eyes at their antics; they don't have to pretend they weren't shoulder-to-shoulder as they looked at the tablet screen together, Oliver talking into his... _friend's_ ear. They seem to think that if they do such an elaborate dance around the obvious, it negates the feelings they pretend not to have for one another.

Thea ignores her brother, instead focusing on Felicity. "Hey, Felicity," she starts cheerfully, "have you got a minute? My computer at the bar? Where I manage the cash? It's not keeping track of the drawer right." She frowns for effect. "I wouldn't bother you if we weren't about to open in an hour."

Thea doesn't miss the way Felicity's eyes instantly flit to Oliver in question, and the nod he gives with an impassive expression. One look, Thea marvels, but an entire conversation. It's not the first time she's seen them do it, but she's always amazed at their impressive level of communication. Most people can't read Oliver with an entire conversation, so she thinks it's rather impressive that Felicity can perfectly interpret a single glance without a second of thought.

Felicity turns back to Thea, smiling. "Sure, of course I can," she assures with the quiet confidence of a computer technician. She moves from her chair, taking the tablet with her, but only after locking the screen. "What have you been noticing?"

Thea launches into a long-winded explanation as the two walk down to the lower level of Verdant, and Felicity steps behind the bar for, like, the second time ever. Roy throws Thea a confused look as she details the fictional problems she's noticed in the last few minutes, when she was really restocking the bar. Mercifully, Roy stays quiet and doesn't rat her out, but he does throw her a few odd looks.

After Felicity has walked back upstairs and is far out of earshot, Roy finally asks his girlfriend, "You wanna tell me what that was about?"

Thea leans toward him, unable to lie to him after all they've been through together. "You have to _promise_ me you won't say a word to anyone about this," she warns. After all, she may not approve of Felicity's nightly activities, but she's not about to send the only friend she's ever had to jail. Thea's fallen for her share of bad boys in the past, so she understands the allure of dark and mysterious guys. Faintly, she wonders if that's why Felicity has fallen so hard for Oliver—not that she'll _admit_ it or anything, much to Thea's chagrin.

Roy looks at her with an expression of absolute trust. "I promise," he assures her quietly. "Now what is happening?"

Thea looks twice around her before saying, "A few weeks ago, I accidentally overheard a conversation between Felicity and Officer Lance," she whispers conspiratorially, and she gets that familiar buzz from the gossip, despite how serious the matter is. Finally, she does the big reveal: "They're working for the Vigilante."

Roy's face goes through a number of expressions—surprise, fear, panic, anger, and—is that _guilt?_ Finally, the expressions are gone and he says, "Are you _crazy?_ Felicity, working for the Vigilante? Why would she do that? I thought Oliver hated the Vigilante—and isn't she his girlfriend?"

Thea rolls her eyes at his ignorance. "No, sadly, she is _not_ his girlfriend, even though they're both crazy about each other. And I know my brother hates the Vigilante, but Felicity is still working with him, and I do not want my brother involved with a psychopath, okay?"

Roy does that half-smirk thing that Thea hasn't seen in a while. "Well," he starts after a long moment, "if Felicity cares about him as much as you think, I don't think she'd _let_ him work with the Vigilante."

Thea only hopes he's right.


	8. Doubt

**Title: Doubt**  
** Episode tag: post-"Damsel"**  
**Characters: Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen**  
** Word Count: 1224**  
** Summary: One cannot serve two masters.**

**Notes:** "Is this too angsty?" I asked myself as I wrote this. "The Arrow fandom is built on angst," I reminded myself. :P As you can probably guess, it's a little angsty, and it has been in my pile of pendings for far too long, so I went ahead and completed it. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing yet, but something needed to be done here. Anyway, I'll let you make your own conclusions. Reviews are appreciated, if you feel so moved. :)

Virtual hugs and/or cookies for anyone who can see the hidden reference in this one. :)

* * *

By this point in her life, Felicity has been working with Oliver long enough that she knows what mood he's in simply by the sound of his footsteps on the stairs. Generally, he's pretty quiet, but she's learned to listen carefully so that she can sound the alarm if necessary. Oliver's a bit of a loose cannon emotionally, so it's always better when she knows _exactly_ what contingency plan to prepare. It's even more important tonight, since she's the only one in the lair, and, the last time they were together there alone, well... things got a little awkward because of the almost-kiss.

On the day in question, she feels the dread threaten to overtake her as she hears the _clomp clomp clomp_ of his boots on the stairs. That's the worst sign of all in her opinion; when he's making noise, it's because he's too angry to think about anything else, and the _last_ place Felicity wants to be is in a soundproof room with an angry, armed Oliver Queen still on an adrenalin rush from a mission. She vaguely thinks about scurrying into the bathroom and changing area they had added in the basement level, but she realizes that the best way to get him calm again is to let him rant. So, she turns in her chair and braces herself for the oncoming storm.

His expression is a thundercloud when he reaches her, the set of his jaw absolutely tense. He opens his mouth to speak as soon as his eyes meet hers, but she's faster on the draw—in this one aspect, at least. "Before you start yelling," she starts, her voice an octave higher than usual, her words tripping over one another, "put the bow down. Are you injured?"

It does nothing to dissipate his anger, but he does as she asks. "No," he snaps tersely. "But I _am_ wondering why my sister could possibly know that _you_ work with the Vigilante." He stands there, towering over her, glaring. Vaguely, she thinks about that saying, _If looks could kill..._ Despite how mad he is, though, he says to her, "Explain, please."

Felicity surprises him when she rises from her chair, and surprises herself when she realizes the anger running through her at the question. It never ends well when they're _both_ angry, but that doesn't stop her from yelling at him, "How _dare_ you suggest that I told anyone about this! I've been working with you for a _year_ now, Oliver! One year of my life I've given to this little crusade of yours—and a whole lot of blood, sweat, tears, and illegal hacking. You brought me into this because you _trusted_ me! I know you don't trust easily—do you really _think_ I would betray that?! Not to mention, I know that the _last_ thing you want is Thea involved in this!" The eruption of anger suddenly cools, freezing over instantly. "I do this every night because I trust you. _My_ intel has saved your life more than once, and I haven't told a _soul_ about what we do here. I would have thought that would earn me a little trust, too."

For a moment, Oliver looks completely stunned. He opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it before repeating the process several times. "Felicity," he says finally, his tone a lot less angry this time, "I _do_ trust you." He puts a hand on her shoulder as he gives her one of those intense, searching looks. There's a ridiculously long pause before finally drops his hand and continues, "I wasn't accusing you of telling Thea. I was asking you to explain how she made the connection."

Felicity has the decency to feel sheepish, her face coloring in her embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she says abruptly, before moving into the information he wants to know, and she has no doubt he'll be mad at her about this. "Remember a few weeks ago when someone almost got into the basement—they entered the keycode from a few days back?" His eyes narrow as he draws the obvious conclusion. "Well," she continues with an awkward laugh, "it was Thea. I knew she was only looking out for you, so I... might have covered for her."

His expression morphs into something that resembles disbelief. "You _lied_ to me?" he almost whispers, and she's surprised by the amount of hurt in his voice. He usually doesn't let things like that show through that carefully crafted mask.

The saying _between a rock and a hard place_ comes to mind. Felicity draws a breath. "I did _not_ lie to you," she insists. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm in a very difficult situation these days because I'm _your_ friend—and _Thea's_. I'm supposed to look out for you, but I also have to watch out for _her_ best interests, too. It wasn't a big deal—the sneaking in, I mean—and I told her that I wouldn't protect her the next time. I thought she'd stop prying after that, but apparently not." She sighs, putting a hand to her forehead. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what to do anymore." She doesn't tell him how she feels so helpless, so torn between two people that mean the world to her.

Oliver seems to understand anyway. "You're right," he says finally. "I should have thought about that before I confronted you like that." She knows it's the closest thing she's going to get to an apology. "She doesn't know that I'm involved with this?"

Felicity affirms the question with a shake of her head. "No, she has no idea. She asked me tonight who you were, so she clearly hasn't figured _that_ out yet."

Oliver seems to think on that. "What did you tell her—when she asked, I mean?" It's completely innocent curiosity, of course, but Felicity knows that answering would reveal far too much on her part than his. He doesn't like it when she hints at the idea that—God forbid—he might actually be _heroic_ on occasion. He seems to think that it's some sort of crime.

"I gave a vague answer," she responds finally in yet another vague answer. She knows she should leave it there, but her mouth runs away with her instead. "She called you a hero, though—did you notice that? Hey, crazy thought, but Thea doesn't know who you are—well, who Arrow-you is—so she had absolutely no reason to lie to you tonight. At the risk of being used for target practice, maybe you should start to realize that I might have just been right when I called you heroic."

She starts to turn away, back toward her chair, but he catches her wrist, and spins her back toward him. Felicity likes to think that she knows more of his expressions than anyone, but the one on his face is absolutely unreadable because she's never seen it before. It might be something like faith, trust, or possibly even _hope_. After a long, emotionally-draining moment where he forces her to look into those intense blue eyes, he finally says, "I trust you with my life, Felicity. I never want you to doubt that again."

And, before she process his sentence, he's in the changing area, leaving her to a battery of chaotic thoughts.


	9. Moody

**Title: Moody**  
**Episode tag: post-2.12 Tremors, pre-2.13 Heir to the Demon, post-"Stealth," post-"Hero"**  
**Word Count: 1288**  
**Summary: Everyone is allowed a bad mood.**

**Notes:** This is my guilty pleasure, I suppose. I wanted to do a very realistic snarky!Felicity, so this is my attempt. And I thought it would be nice to really have a Roy and Felicity moment (though not in a pairing, of course). Anyway, this is pure fluff, so I'll let you draw your own conclusions. Any reviews are appreciated! :)

* * *

Even though Roy hasn't been on the team all that long, he has learned how some of the things work in Team Arrow—as Felicity calls it, and as he calls it in his head just because he knows Oliver doesn't like it. The last thing anyone wants to be is the bearer of bad news to Oliver because he's so... _intimidating_ when he's not pretending. The saying _don't shoot the messenger_ is more likely to be ignored when the news darkens his mood.

Fortunately for Roy, he's been around long enough to know that if he _does_ come around with bad news, he should either tell it to Oliver over a long distance, _or_—best option—he should tell Felicity. It's one of the reasons Roy originally thought the two were dating: Felicity always seems to be the one who can get through to Oliver. She's not afraid to stand up to him, which either be amusing or end horribly.

That's why he stops off at the lair at a time when he knows Oliver is upstairs at Verdant with Thea—and when he knows Felicity is downstairs. He's a little surprised when he sees her chair empty, but then he notices the movement of blonde ponytail just above the chair's seat. His eyes narrow when he sees her in the floor with a screwdriver, legs folded under her, the guts of one of the computer... things exposed. His news is forgotten as he asks, "What are you doing down there?"

She doesn't seem surprised by his question or his presence, as she doesn't even take the time to look up at him. "I'm currently rewiring this circuit board, since it decided to quit on me today." His eyebrows shoot up in surprise because her usually cheery tone is replaced by a terse edge. As if answering his unspoken question, she adds, "It also happens to be one of only a few things that really get me in a bad mood. Which, by the way, you boys in this"—she waves a hand—"_sea of testosterone_ should be grateful for because PMS does _not_ make that list."

Roy cringes at that reference, but then remembers why he's talking to her in the first place, so he takes a seat on the floor next to her. He takes the Oliver approach and continues as though she hasn't said anything. "I wanted to talk to you about something," but he stops abruptly when he sees that look she's giving him.

Her glasses have managed to slip down her nose, so she looks up at him over them, giving him an expression that clearly reads, _Are you freaking kidding me?_ She pushes her glasses up before saying, "Did you _not_ just hear me? Circuit boards, bad mood—_not done yet?_ Before you start this, you need to ask yourself two questions: 'Do I really need to say this?' And, 'Do I really need to say this _right now?_' If the answer to either or both of those is no, then you need to walk away."

He thinks about it for a minute, but then he decides to go along with it, though the conversation is quickly approaching I'd-rather-talk-to-Oliver territory—which is something that has _never_ happened before, especially not with Felicity. "Thea told me that she knows you work for the Vigilante," he says finally. "And she's been trying to keep you and Oliver apart for a few weeks now, apparently. She doesn't want you dragging Oliver into Arrow business."

Felicity snorts. "Old news," she assures him in that terse tone, not looking up this time. "She made that clear when she got kidnapped by Helena and asked me to involve the Arrow in code."

"Helena?" Roy repeats blankly.

Felicity waves a hand dismissively. "Helena Bertinelli—or Oliver's 'psycho ex-girlfriend,' as Diggle calls her." She looks up for a minute, her expression thoughtful and appraising as she mulls over her last sentence. "Though I do find myself using that phrase a lot."

"Find yourself using what phrase?" asks neither of them, and Roy turns his head to find Oliver bounding down the stairs. He looks at the two of them for a minute, turning toward Roy first.

Even though Oliver's movements are silent, Felicity doesn't seem surprised by his question or his presence. "Your 'psycho ex-girlfriend,' in relation to Helena," she repeats in a nice show of bravery. "We somehow got on that topic from—oh, yeah, we were talking about Thea."

Instead of asking about their seating arrangements, he instead sits in Felicity's computer chair, and Roy winces for the mistake he just made. "What about Thea?" Oliver tries again, oblivious to what happens to those who dare sit in her computer chair. (It was the first lesson Roy learned after being officially inducted into Team Arrow.)

"If you touch the seat adjustments on my chair again, Oliver," she starts in a very dark tone that rivals Oliver's Arrow voice, "I swear I'll destroy your office computers beyond repair." Her tone returns almost to normal as she continues, "And we were talking about Thea knowing I work for Arrow-you. She's apparently trying to keep me from drawing skirt-chasing-billionaire-you into Arrow business."

It takes Roy all he has to keep his expression neutral, but Oliver isn't so capable. His eyebrows narrow in anger, but one corner of his mouth curls upward in something akin to a smile. (Roy knows that expression well because Felicity often elicits it.) "Excuse me?" he asks, his voice taking on a darker tone.

Felicity continues on as though he hasn't spoken. "Of course, she never stopped to think that maybe _you_ pulled _me_ into Arrow business when you decided to crawl into the backseat of my car, shot and bleeding."

"Best decision I've ever made," he says in a tone that Roy believes to be sincere. _This_ is exactly the reason that Roy thought the two were dating; something about Felicity's presence... _mellows_ Oliver, despite what mood she's in. Felicity's back is to him, so Oliver probably doesn't see the smile that graces her face for a moment, despite her bad mood.

Oliver finally asks the question Roy's been waiting for all evening: "What are you doing in the floor?" Though the question could easily apply to Roy, it's clearly aimed only at Felicity. It seems that everything Oliver says these days is aimed at Felicity.

She doesn't look up as she says, "This computer decided to be a jerk, so now I'm rewiring this circuit board."

The change in Oliver's expression is slow, giving Roy enough time to enjoy the comical change. Oliver's eyes widen as the smile slips from his face, and the resulting expression almost resembles fear. Abruptly, he's out of the chair and on the other side of the desk from her. "I'll be in the training area," he assures her, moving more quickly than Roy has ever seen him.

At his bewildered expression, Felicity only says, "I told you this puts me in a horrible mood. He's smart enough to make a tactical retreat. And yet here you sit." The last sentence is said in warning, as if he should leave quickly.

Roy rises this time, but takes the time to say, "You know, he would probably buy you a new computer for down here. You wouldn't have to do this repair and all."

Her only answer before he walks away is, "It's a matter of pride now." Roy knows when he's defeated so he moves quickly away, back toward the training mats where he's sure to get his ass kicked several times by Oliver.

But it seems like a much better option than standing around a very irritated Felicity.


	10. Subtle

**Title: Subtle**  
** Episode tag: pre-"Charade"**  
** Word Count: 793**  
** Summary: Sometimes understanding comes from what isn't said, more than what is.**

**Important Little Note:** This is officially the last pre-written work in the Talkative series. I've completed Little Talks, too, so this is it on this series for now. **This one will _not_ be marked complete because I hope to do more with it later.** My brain has moved on to Technical Assistance, and I hope to start with regular updates on that one _tomorrow_. If not then, soon. :) Anyway, reviews are much appreciated, but, either way, thanks for reading! :)

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Felicity doesn't know how she keeps getting herself into these messes. It's not that she doesn't mind dressing up for a charity event—and she _certainly_ doesn't mind the idea of going with Oliver, who will most likely drop a huge chunk of change in name of the worthy cause. It isn't even that she minds being out in the field for Arrow business; she's been itching for a chance to get out in the field after the Rowland thing after she got shot, but Oliver has been adamant that she stay behind a desk.

It's Sykes, their target, himself. The guy is a _creep_.

But it's only her suspicion about him as she and Oliver exit the vehicle together. Because of her very limited budget and his very unlimited generosity, he offered to pay for whatever she needed to pull of the Oliver Queen arm-candy standard and she couldn't afford to say no. She likes the dress she found, and, in her opinion, it just sweetens the pot that it's an emerald green just a few shades varied from the Vigilante's signature color. He said she was his girl, and so now she's just reinforcing that fact—albeit in a roundabout fashion. She thinks she might have pulled off the look alright, as when she came out of the bathroom in the lair, Oliver just stood there, absolutely speechless.

(But, honestly, she might have done the same thing while staring at him; he was only half-dressed, and something about seeing him in suspenders is more appealing than watching him parade around in those Armani suits all the time.)

He slides a hand around her waist as they enter Sykes' ridiculously large house, and she smiles genuinely when she realizes she's _finally_ in the field again. After she got shot the first time, things were absolutely impossible with Oliver for a while. Usually Felicity likes his tendency to hover, but since the Rowland thing, he's been like a hummingbird with an amphetamine rush. Now that Sara is officially on the team, it's given him a better excuse. But, fortunately for Felicity, Sara can't hack an encrypted computer.

The first person Oliver decides to mingle with is Sykes himself, and the guy looks just like the smug gun-runner Felicity expects him to be. Graying dark hair, goatee, and that condescending air that usually accompanies money (with the single exception of Oliver, of course).

Ah, Oliver Queen," Sykes says smoothly as they approach, shaking Oliver's hand briefly. "So good to see you after all these years, Oliver. " He turns toward Felicity, studying her in an appraising way that makes her skin crawl, though she fights to keep that feeling from her expression. "You're a very lucky man to have such a woman on your arm tonight." To Felicity, he adds, "You look beautiful tonight, darling." It could be that the compliment irritates her because it comes from Sykes, but the qualification of _looking_ beautiful _tonight_ rub her raw.

In that moment, Felicity understands Sykes completely. If there's one thing that she knows, it's that everyone has a weakness, and Sykes' is clearly women. But, like most things in his life, he's careful with his weakness, careful to keep it firmly in control. To him, women are like money: easily traded and earned—but also _disposable_. To him, she isn't a woman, but a status symbol or a trophy.

She knows his comment irks Oliver when she feels the hand at the small of her back move to her hip in a display of the overprotective, possessive quality Felicity has come to expect from him. "I am lucky," he agrees, "but it has nothing to do with how beautiful she is." The trademark lazy smile is on his face, but Felicity can't interpret the expression in his voice.

She's long since learned that understanding Oliver is equal parts listening, observing, and reading between the two. He said that she _is_ beautiful, not that she appears to be such, and he doesn't dare qualify it with a timeframe. And the compliment is doubled as he implies that it's not her beauty that he is thankful for, and Felicity knows he's instead referring to her mind and her skills. The veiled compliment surprises her so much that she can't follow the rest of the conversation.

When he finally guides her away, he asks lowly, "Are you ready to work?"

Vaguely, she hears herself agree, but she isn't really focusing on that. As she allows him to lead her up the stairs, she says quietly, "Thank you for that." She doesn't elaborate because he'll know what she means. But she thinks of something else, something that astounds her.

It's moments like these that remind her why she keeps working for him.


End file.
